


First Light

by tsukibeam



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Birthday Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, affectionate new couple, like so much fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-23 00:40:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12494524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsukibeam/pseuds/tsukibeam
Summary: Prompto requests romance from Noctis for his birthday and, well, challenge accepted. The sort of sequel to my Noctis birthday fic.





	First Light

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by my best friend who had a similar request because her boyfriend is lame and doesn't do romance. Like Noct, I also said challenge accepted.

“Hey, Prom. What do you want for your birthday?”

It’s a casual question, just thrown out while the two lounge in Noctis’s apartment. Prompto is flat on Noctis’s outstretched body, utterly relaxed as the two watch a shitty rom-com.

It couldn’t have been comfortable, really, with the way Prompto’s neck craned around to see the TV but he wasn’t complaining, so neither did Noctis. If anything, he liked the warm weight of Prompto. It was also a front row seat to the glittering gold of his hair, with the way the sun wove through it.

Prompto stretches out over Noctis, going completely dead weight and pushing the air from his lungs. Noctis coughs, wheezes, and pushes Prompto off, and the blonde falls to the floor with a laugh and thump.

“Dude,” Prompto starts, but his pout is ruined by the giggles escaping around the indignant word.

“Answer the question,” Noctis replies and does absolutely nothing to help up his boyfriend.

Of course, Prompto makes a show of his struggle to get back on the couch. He settles in between Noctis’s legs, back in the middle cushion. Close enough to idly reach for one of Noctis’s hands and trace little circles in his palm. And Noctis sits up because he senses a very subtle change take over Prompto, learned from years of hanging out, silently watching and pining.

Prompto ducks his head down, his cheeks flush just a tad, and he lets out a low chuckle. His self conscious, embarrassed one.

What the hell?

Noctis has asked this question three years in a row now, and he’s usually gotten demurred answers, always with a bright smile and laugh, about how he isn’t expecting anything. This is similar, but the way he’s biting his lips...he’s not expecting anything, but he still clearly wants _something_.

“What is it?” Noctis’s hand tickles in Prompto’s but he doesn’t draw away. It feels nice, like all of his dumb high school day dreams realized.

“I, uh,” Prompto starts, and then chuckles that self conscious laugh of his, the one that sort of just trails off. “Well, every year it’s me, you, Ignis and Gladio.”

“Yeah,” Noctis says because...yeah. Every year, it’s them because Prompto’s parents always seemed to have somewhere else to be. Not that it’s really seemed to _bother_ Prompto, but it sure bothers Noctis, so of course he recruits his totally willing friends into a celebration. They were always complete with cake and presents that bordered on the spoiled side of things.

“Well…” Prompto’s thumb goes still, though Noctis’s hand still tingles with the phantom sensation. “Well, I _like_ those parties, trust me. But I also really liked your birthday being just the two of us.”

Noctis blinks, and he smiles, some tension he hadn’t realized had built up, releasing. “Yeah, we can do that for yours.” Actually, now that he thinks about it, it sounds perfect.

“But,” Prompto begins again, stopping new day dreams of Noctis’s in their tracks, “I romanced you for your birthday so...I guess, that’s what I want.”

Oh. _Oh_.

 _Shit_.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Noctis says instead, because the way Prompto bites his lip and looks at him sideways is both adorable and earnest and dammit, Noctis is absolutely _weak_ against that.

 

* * *

 

Ignis, when Noctis tells him later in a panicked bid for help, does not have the same faith that Prompto does.

“You have the romantic capabilities of the fish you love to terrorize,” the advisor says mildly as he measures oil for their dinner.

Noctis slaps his hands on the counter and buries his face in his arms with a groan. “I can’t even be mad, it’s true.”

“I mean, honestly,” Ignis continues, “who gives someone flowers they’re _allergic_ to?”

Noctis’s face burns but he glares at Ignis. “Hey, wait, not fair. That was once and I wasn’t _trying_ to romance Iris. It was _her_ birthday.”

“Hmm,” Ignis says noncommittally, and sprinkles a few spices into the pan.

Noctis huffs, and tries a different tactic. “Okay. You’re my advisor.” Ignis’s hand stills for a moment. “Advise me. How would you romance Gladio?”

All of Ignis stills. Noctis swears his glasses even flash white. “ _Excuse me_?”

The intimidation doesn’t work on Noctis, who has been eighty percent raised by him, and he rolls his eyes. “ _Please_. You and Gladio are in the top five worst kept secrets of the Citadel.”

“Are we.”

“Solid third. Crownsguard’s got a betting pool going for when you two go public.”

“And how much would you stand to win?”

“ _A lot_. Stop stalling.”

 Ignis clears his throat and takes his sweet time adding more ingredients, muttering all the while that Noctis should really do this on his own. And yeah, he probably should, but he’s got less than a month to work on this and he _knows_ Prompto started on that star projector _months_ before Noctis’s birthday.

“Prompto brought the impossible--somewhere you cannot go--to you,” Ignis finally says once his hands were wiped clean. “So you must find out--where is it _Prompto_ cannot go?”

Noctis thinks about it, slumped on his stool and swinging his legs. Where could Prompto not go? In theory he could go anywhere in Insomnia and outside. Hell, he _had_ gone outside of Insomnia, for Noctis’s birthday. Brought him stars and, like, the best romance Noctis could have wished for and yeah, this was his problem: how did he top that?

He voices as much to Ignis, at least the last part and adds, “but Specs. Your advice is maddeningly unhelpful. I mean, what, should I give him the royal treatment or some--”

And Noctis blinks and he lets out a long sigh of realization, and then sucks it back in and stares at hard at Ignis. “Specs. Buddy.”

Ignis releases his own sigh, long suffering, though not entirely displeased. “Use your proper sentences, Highness.”

So Noctis does, and Ignis plates their dinner, saying he’d expedite the paperwork first thing.

 

* * *

 

Time goes by, a countdown to Prompto’s birthday. Two weeks, one week.

Prompto is all smiles as they walk home together, hand in hand, through the autumn city breeze and leaves. Noctis knows he’s excited, maybe not consciously, because Prompto claims otherwise when Noctis teases him, but it’s obvious.

It’s freaking out Noctis because yeah, he’s got that thing Ignis is working on but, as his advisor was quick to point out, it hardly counts as romantic. All he can think is Ignis asking him where Prompto can’t go--what else can he do for that?

The answer comes to him almost by accident, when Noctis is in bed a few mornings before Prompto’s birthday. He’s warm, Noctis sprawled out in a starfish over the bed, utterly dead to the world.

That is until several hard jabs and rough shaking brings him back to consciousness. He opens his eyes with a groan and then immediately burrows down in the blankets.

“Noct, come see the sunrise with me.”

Prompto’s voice is very close, and his breath tickled Noctis’s ear.

“N’way,” Noctis swats Prompto away, but Prompto grabs his hand and _pulls_ , so Noctis is dragged a few inches off his pillow. Noctis groans again.

“C’mon, Noct, we never see the sunrise.” Prompto’s hand is cold--he must have gone for a run--and Noctis almost recoils from it.

“Cause sleep time,” Noctis grumbles and then uses his entire sleepy dead weight to pull Prompto fully onto the bed.

Prompto yelps and gods he’s so _cold_ as he settles in next to Noctis. And Noctis has been asleep, not knowing that Prompto was gone, but he still feels his return. It’s the smell and feel of Prompto as Noctis curls into him.

“C’mere,” Noctis says, his arms working around Prompto’s waist and pulling him closer, until Noctis is flush against his side.

It’s not pleasant, really, with the outside chill still clinging to Prompto, but Noctis is basically a furnace under his duvets so he’ll warm up quickly.

“Noct,” Prompto mumbles into Noctis’s shoulder, lazily pressing small kisses into his shoulder, “the sunrise.”

Warm and content with Prompto in his arms and--a rustle under the sheets--Prompto’s legs wrapped around his, Noctis is already drifting off to sleep again.

“Another time,” Noctis sighs and presses his lips against Prompto’s cheek in his own lazy kiss.

And _that_ is when it occurs to him, sandwiched between sleep and the love of his boyfriend.

 _Oh_.

 

* * *

 

Noctis hates himself. He’s pretty sure his driver does as well--he didn’t miss the sleep deprived glare the man shoots him in the mirror. Noctis is too tired to apologize verbally but he does hand the poor guy a travel mug of coffee.

Somehow, and Noctis is proud of this fact, he doesn’t fall asleep on the way to Prompto’s house. He almost wishes Prompto had just stayed at his apartment but it wouldn’t have _really_ made a difference.

It’s weird, being at Prompto’s house so early. Visually, it looks the same as it does at midnight--a small porch light casting a yellow glow over the front door, the potted plants browning in the autumn chill. It’s just the silence that makes things weird. It’s silent because everyone should be _asleep_ and they _are_.

Noctis grimaces, hates himself a tab more because he can’t really _believe_ he is out here. His body can’t either; even though the heat is blasting enough to make the car stuffy, Noctis is still shivering at his core, missing the warmth of his bed.

But a movement catches Noctis’s attention, and another light flicks on inside the house. A second later, the door opens and Prompto appears, dressed in an oversized hoodie, sweats, and his running shoes. His hair isn’t styled for once--it lays flat on his head, and somehow it’s cuter than it should be, enough so that Noctis’s lips quirk into a smile.

Noctis lowers the window and calls out to Prompto. “Hey, get in.”

Poor Prompto, in the middle of locking the house, starts and drops his keys. “What the hell, Noct--if that’s really you. How are you awake?”

“My boyfriend asked me to romance him for his birthday,” Noctis tried very hard to scowl and look inconvenienced. “So get in.”

It takes a couple seconds for Prompto to understand what’s happening. He stands there, blinking, long enough that Noctis--who is leaning through the open window and letting all the warm out--is two seconds from calling the whole thing off and dragging Prompto back to bed.

And seriously, who goes running on their _birthday_?

But understanding seems to dawn on Prompto, like he’s finally remembering their talk a few weeks ago, and a huge smile is blooming on his face. He’s inside of the car faster than anyone has a right to be this early and the driver is speeding away.

Of course, as soon as Prompto is settled, Noctis presses up close, claiming Prompto’s hands in his own, his head on his shoulder. Noctis just about fully dozes off, lulled by the hum of the car and Prompto’s fingers in his hair. Maybe Noctis should be the one doing that but it feels nice, and judging by the way Prompto’s other hand is now idly tracing circles everywhere he can reach, Prompto probably doesn’t care.

He blinks awake when Prompto prods him, and he breathes in, heavy and big, as he looks around him. Prompto’s eyes are large and his hand is frozen on Noctis’s lap.

“We’re at the Citadel,” he whispers, dumbstruck, he glances at Noctis like he needs confirmation for what his eyes are seeing.

“Yeah,” Noctis yawns, stretches leisurely as he driver pulls up to the gate. They hear him say a few things, his voice muffled.

Prompto is absolutely still against Noctis, and Noctis stares at him because this is new to him. He’s been in and out of these gates thousands of times, as had everyone else he knew. He’d never seen this though, and it sort of knocked into Noctis that this _might_ be a big deal for Prompto.

“Hey,” Noctis nudges Prompto, drawing his absolutely freaked out looked back to him. “They’re not gonna drag you away, you know.”

Prompto’s cheeks flush and he looks down at the hand on Noctis’s thigh. “I know. I just...I’m not _dressed_ \--are you _sure_ \--”

“A hundred percent,” Noctis easily replies, and as the car pulls forward again, he draws Prompto into a kiss that’s half distraction for him, and half because Noctis just _wanted_ to.

It was something he sort of, at the back of his mind, thought he’d never get to do: kissing his best friend in the back of a royal car, going to the Citadel. The thought made Noctis smile against Prompto’s lips and he suddenly didn’t hate himself for this ungodly hour as much.

Noctis pulls back, rests his forehead on Prompto’s and just sort of stares. It’s still too dark to see the true violet of Prompto’s eyes but he can make out the affection in them and it sends a flush of warmth through Noctis’s entire body.

Fuck. He’s not supposed to be the one romanced but, well, two months ago he didn’t think he’d get this, any of Prompto.

“Glad you’re here,” Noctis mumbles.

“I still can’t believe what’s happening.” Prompto probably means an entirely different thing but Noctis feels the exact same way.

When the car stops at a smaller door, less official looking and more side, Noctis takes a breath and then untangles himself from Prompto, hopping out of the car before a servant or the driver can open the door. He runs to the driver though and quickly takes a small box and slips it into his pocket.

Prompto’s still sitting in the car, staring wide eyed through the open door and up at the tall and very looming Citadel.Noctis appears before him and offers a hand which Prompto takes, missing a few times because he can’t properly pay attention.

“Dude,” he says when Noctis leads him inside, past the guards in black, past servants with still sleepy eyes.

It’s strange to see life now after driving through the pre-dawn Insomnia streets. And it’s strange too because it’s still the emptiest Noctis has seen this level of the Citadel. But the sky is slowly becoming lighter and the shadows dancing in the dark corridors and between marble columns are fading.

It’s kind of a slow walk from castle entrance to elevator; Prompto is staring at everything while he tugs at his hoodie: the columns, the paintings, even the servants who nod respectfully at the two.

Noctis taps his security card to the elevator scanner and the doors ping and open. Noctis repeats the process inside and presses a button. The doors close and it’s just the two of them again, never mind the security cameras.

“Dude,” Prompto says as the elevator ascends and he leans against the gilded hand rail behind him. “What are we doing?”

The doors ping though and Prompto has no choice but to follow a coy Noctis through yet another corridor to another elevator.

“These go to the royal residences,” Noctis says as he taps his card again.

Prompto’s eyes absolutely bulge from his face and he practically trips into the elevator. Noctis catches him, threading a hand through his and holds on. It’s clammy though, he’s definitely nervous, so Noctis brings it to his lips in a small peck.

“Don’t worry,” he says as the elevator pings and opens again. “I won’t make you meet Dad yet.”

“Oh my god,” Prompto squeaks. “ _Yet_.”

As much as he loves his apartment, the familiar feel of this corridor--he points out the door to his old set of rooms--is home. Especially with Prompto at his side. It feels right, and he wishes that he could have done this sooner but, well, better late than never.

Prompto is very clearly wanting to check out Noctis’s rooms but he drags him further down the corridor, to the door at the very end. Noctis grips the handle, takes a breath, and then turns to Prompto.

“This is me and Dad’s private terrace. It’s sort of the best view of the city,” he tells Prompto, whose mouth pops open in a small O. Something lights in his eyes, like maybe he’s figured out what’s happening. Noctis smiles and pushes the door open.

“It also just _happens_ to also be the best view for sunrises.”

“ _Holy shit_."

Prompto basically pushes past him, onto the enclosed terrace, where a series of small cakes, breakfast pastries and drinks sit waiting on the stone top table. It’s  surrounded by plush looking patio chairs...not that any of that matters.

No, Prompto barely pays any attention to any of it, not with the sun’s first light peaking over the distant horizon over the city far below them. Pink and blues, mixed together, soft and brighting by the second.

“Noct…” Prompto tears his eyes away from the view and to Noctis who chews on his lip for a second.

He has always liked Prompto in the sun, the light catching his golden hair, the freckles that dot everywhere the sun kissed. It was different now though, watching the sun slowly rising around Prompto--the slow radiance that built around him.

Fuck, it-- _he_ \--was beautiful.

“Uh, so,” Noctis coughed. This is the part he probably should have practiced but _whatever_. “Now you can’t say we never see the sunrise.”

Prompto laughs. “I can’t believe you actually got up for this.”

“Me neither. You wouldn’t believe how many alarms I set.”

Prompto’s smile tells him that yes, he would definitely believe it, and Noctis shuffles closer, his hand dipping into his pocket. Prompto’s attention drifts back to the sunrise, but when Noctis coughs, his violet eyes are back on him in an instant.

“I sort of got you something,” Noctis says, pulling Prompto onto the squishy cushion of the couch. Their thighs jam together and it’s basically an anchor against the fluttering in his stomach which in turn is a distraction from Prompto’s golden everything.

Noctis pulls his hand out of his pocket and gives the box to Prompto. It’s flat, smooth leather and Prompto takes it, a quick glance at Noctis. It opens with the slightest of creaks and Noctis grabs it before Prompto can get a proper look.

“Okay, here’s the thing,” Noctis starts, and _wow_ , he’s actually sort of wanting to hide the stupid thing. “You’re...well. I don’t want to be without you.”

Okay. He forces another breath in his lungs. Prompto is listening intently. So far so good. “But it sort of sucks when I’m doing royal duty stuff, or celebrating my birthday and other holidays. _Here_. Without you.”

“Yeah,” Prompto says slowly, doing his best to follow along. And god, Noctis is getting distracted by his violet eyes because the sun has risen higher and this _is_ the best view of the city and he’s never seen them so bright.

“Well.” Noctis plucks out the thing from the box and holds it up for Prompto to see. “This is for you. So you can be with me, properly. Like. Officially part of all... _this_.”

Ignis absolutely came through on his paperwork, cutting through all the security red tape that normally holds up everyone applying for a clearance card. Fortunately, it’s a bit different for a royally granted card, slightly _less_ rigorous of a process. The picture on the card is a cropped selfie of Noctis and Prompto, but it’s good enough.

And thankfully Prompto thinks so too because his mouth falls open and he takes it, sputtering barely formed words the whole time.

“And please don’t go on about how you’re not, like, _good enough_ or whatever,” Noctis starts, scooting even closer to Prompto. “Cause it’s official. Ignis made it happen.”

“ _Noct_ ,” Prompto laughs, and blinks a lot before setting down the card on the table between all the cakes and pastries, “Noct.”

Whatever Prompto is trying to say is lost as he reaches out for Noctis, claiming his lips with his own but Noctis _gets_ what he’s trying to say, because he feels the same way. And Noctis knew it would be, but this kiss alone makes the waking up early thing all worth it. There’d be time later for a nap but for now...Noctis is just glad Prompto is _here_.

"Happy birthday, Prom."


End file.
